two words: unadulterated genius
I love Ulysses, as Avid says, in the pants! It was ten novels in one – a play, a catechism, an essay on Shakespeare, a thirtytwo page eight sentence no punctuation internal monologue, a masterpiece. Joyce executed The Unities effortlessly but still managed to take us on an odyssey. I heard Jamaican, “Ludamassy, mi pore picaninnies.” I heard Australian, “Crikey!” I experienced the cosmos of the solitary wo/man. The English language was deconstructed in a strange and wonderful way and expanded into infinite possibilities. It was breathtaking. Like Marylin Monroe and Virginia Woolf before her, I have been ruined.
Ulysses destroyed the whole of the 19th century. It showed up the futility of all the English styles. Virginia Woolf in her diary, September 26, 1922
I can see why it was banned in the U.S. and U.K. for over a decade. They couldn’t decide whether it was pornography. What it is, is an unflinching fly-on-the-wall look at the inner intrigues of thoughts and desires, fear and doubt, passion and grief, all the things that make us human. Ultimately, it is less about what we say and do and more about what we think and feel.
I close this book having felt a profound sense of communion. Nothing at all and everything possible simultaneously happen, revealing within the text all the secrets I crave.
Reading will never be the same.
strange fruit-nina simone
time to pretend-mgmt
i kissed a girl-katy perry
hand in my pocket-alanis morisette
ain’t no fun-snoop dogg